


buoy

by thereisnobearonthisisland



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, dan swears almost as much as i do, innuendos, maybe medium burn, some bants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14565603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnobearonthisisland/pseuds/thereisnobearonthisisland
Summary: "Don't tell Jack."Dan is a first-year student at the University of Manchester. Jack is his RA. And Phil is Jack's best friend, another RA, and quite possibly about to be the love of Dan's life. Dan and Phil just have a long road of keeping secrets from Jack before they fall in love.





	1. Chapter One

Dan was tired.  Tired because he’d been staying up until three o’clock in the morning every night for the past two weeks.  Tired because there’s only so much you can read before your brain liquefies and your eyelids start to feel like they’re made of lead.  Most of all, though, he was just tired of uni in general.  Everything was so…monotonous.  Waking up to go to work for a few hours.  Going to classes all day just for the attendance points, but never actually listening to a word that was said all class.  Coming home with every intention of Doing The Thing™, only to fall asleep within five minutes of stepping through the door.  All of this was wearing him thin, ripping apart his motivation one thread at a time.

He was tired, and regardless of whether or not it was a good idea for his GPA, he was ready for some relaxation.  Jack, his RA, had given him the perfect opportunity, too.  As Dan lay cocooned under his blankets, eyes drifting shut to some old-ass document written by John Locke, his school email pinged with a new notification.  He shifted a bit, sitting straighter and wiggling his shoulders to try to wake himself up.  He slid his cursor over to the tab with his email and opened it.  From Jack Swanson, yada yada yada, watching Planet Earth II in the lounge.  Dan’s eyes shot open.  He could be watching Planet Earth II instead of reading for class?  Sign him the fuck up.

He threw the covers off of himself and sprung out of bed.  Were pyjama pants appropriate for watching Netflix in the communal lounge?  Oh, who was he kidding.  It would be dark.  No one would actually give a fuck what he was wearing.  He slipped on a grey t-shirt and a pair of slippers before heading out of his room, not even bothering to lock the door behind him.  

The lounge was in the center of the whole floor, a focal point, the hub for everyone to get together and socialize.  Not that people did very often.  Dan made his way past the elevators and into the lounge.  The horrendous, thirty-year-old blue couches and chairs had been rearranged into a u-shape in front of the TV.  Jack looked up from where he was fiddling with a cord he’d hooked from his laptop to the TV.  He was the only other person in the lounge.  

Dan’s stomach swooped.  What if he was the only one to show up tonight?  What if he had to carry conversation all by himself?  He liked Jack.  Jack was easy to get along with.  But Dan had no idea how he was meant to hold a steady conversation all night without anyone to interject or change the subject.  He was an awful conversationalist.  

“Dan!”  Jack grinned from where he was kneeling on the floor, trying to project the show onto the widescreen TV embedded in the wall.  “Glad you could make it!”  

Dan let out a long breath.  Netflix.  They were watching Netflix.  Surely, some other people would be joining them.  And even if they didn’t, Dan wouldn’t have to worry about conversation.  He’d be too busy staring at the screen.

He shook his head, remembering that Jack had just said something.  He grinned crookedly, fixing his eyes just to the left of Jack’s face.  “Heh, yeah, I just really love penguins, ya know?”

Jack nodded vigorously.  “Oh yeah, penguins are definitely one of the coolest animals out there.”  He frowned, pulling his phone out of his pocket.  “Sorry, I left my friend Phil in charge of snacks for tonight.  He appears to have gotten lost,” he said after a minute.

Dan grinned.  “Ha, yeah I’m late to almost everything, so I feel for him.”

“Oh, no.  I mean he actually got lost.  The guy doesn’t know his left from his right.  He took one wrong turn and wound up eight blocks opposite from Tesco’s.”

“Oh.”  Dan bit back a grin.

“He’s on his way back now though.  Hopefully we can still start on time.  I was kind of hoping he’d make it back earlier though.  I’m not really sure if I have this hooked up properly.”  Jack gestured to the set-up he’d made with his laptop and the TV.

Dan scratched the back of his neck.  “I mean, I could take a look at it for you if you want?”

“Yeah, sure!  I’m honestly so technologically incompetent.  I always need help.  I think my mom could figure this out in about two minutes, but it just doesn’t click for me.”

Tittering, Dan knelt as Jack stood up from beside his laptop.  “You’re just trying to project your laptop screen onto the TV screen?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, that’s simple enough.”  He checked the HDMI cord and its input and then played with a few buttons on the side of the TV to switch the input from HDMI 2 to 3.  Jack’s computer screen popped up onto the TV.

“Huh.  That was quick.  Well, thanks Dan!”

Dan ducked his head.  “Erm, yeah, no problem.”  He made his way over to the couch facing the door and sat down, pulling his feet up onto the seat and wrapping his arms around his legs.  He stared at the screen, eyes glazing over and zoning out as Jack brought up Planet Earth on Netflix.  

He snapped back to attention when a giant bumbling figure stumbled through the open door, spindly limbs wobbling with the weight of plastic bags full of popcorn and suspiciously vibrant packaging. The guy was tall, probably taller than Dan himself and definitely taller than Jack.  He was _hot_.  Pools of saliva were beginning to form in Dan’s mouth, and he was almost afraid that he’d wind up hocking a loogie at this Phil guy before they even got the chance to get to know one another.  He needed to get ahold of himself.

Phil—or at least Dan was assuming this was Phil—dropped his bags on the round table in the corner of the room and let out a few wheezing breaths.  Dan smirked to himself.  Relatable.  Jack said something off to his left, but it just sounded like something from inside a fishbowl.

_“Dan?”_  Dan shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the tall, handsome stranger and blinking rapidly as if that could make the fog billowing up in his head clear any faster.  Jack was looking at him, head cocked to the side and eyebrows scrunched together.

“Hmm?”

“I said that I’m gonna go grab some plates, but you can feel free to sneak anything you’d like before other people start to show up.  I won’t tell.”

“Oh, yeah.  Cool.  Thanks!”  Dan clasped his hands together and stood up awkwardly.  As Jack ducked out of the room, he crept over to the table with the snacks.

The guy was even prettier up close.  His eyes looked like summer, and they made Dan nostalgic for old family hols when his parents were still together.  He forced himself to look away from them and toward the small mountain of food.

“I’m always the weirdo who winds up in the corner with the food,” the guy said, and Dan started, a surprised laugh tumbling out of his lips.

“Honestly?  Same.”

The guy grinned a thousand-watt smile.  “You’re Dan, right?”  He stuck out his hand.  “I’m Phil.  I’m the RA on the second floor.”

Dan grabbed it for a quick shake, ignoring the way his palm tingled when their hands came together.  “Nice to meet you.  Jack was actually just telling me a bit about you.  Said you don’t know your left from your right.”

Phil groaned, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.  “He’s right!  I got lost on the way to pick up all of these snacks.  I told him it would go much smoother if I had someone else to go with me, but he said he had to be back here.  It’s really all his fault.”

Dan laughed.  “I’d offer to go with you next time, but I actually have no idea where anything is in this city.”

“You don’t know your way around Manchester?  I mean, I guess I can’t talk.  I got lost on the way to Tesco’s.  But you should at least know all the places to go to if your family comes to town or something.”

Dan scratched the back of his neck, unable to shake the broad grin that had planted itself on his face.  He was sure he must look like a maniac.  “I’m sure I’ll get around to learning the city eventually.”

Phil nodded, shifting back and forth between his feet for a minute.  “I mean, I could try to show you around sometime, maybe.  If you want, that is.  I’m not the best at finding my way around.  Obviously.  But at least if you get lost you won’t be alone.”

Dan felt his face grow warm with a flush straight from hell itself.  He opened his mouth to answer, but Jack walked back through the door, and all the words in Dan’s head morphed into a squeak.  Holy fuck.  Dan had just squeaked.  In front of a hot guy.   _Shit_.

“I’ve got plates!”  Jack wandered over to them, seemingly oblivious to Dan’s growing embarrassment.  He set a stack of plates on the table and then turned around, frowning at the door.  “I thought we might get more people than this.  Maybe I should send one more email.”

He pulled out his phone and ambled over to one of the chairs.  Phil nudged Dan, and Dan tried to will away the blush dusting his cheeks as he looked back at him.  Dan’s eyes were drawn to his lips as he put a single finger up to them.  They were pretty lips, bow-shaped, plump, and pink.  He barely noticed the way Phil gestured secretively to his own phone.  Phil typed something quickly, fingers flying across the screen for a minute before he locked it and slipped it back into his pocket.

Dan’s spine was wracked with the tingle of shivers as Phil leaned in close to whisper to him.  “I just invited my residents to join in if they want.  Don’t tell Jack.”

Dan nodded, holding his breath as he desperately tried to keep his body from shaking too much at the feeling of Phil’s breath fanning out over his ear.  He took one step away from Phil, letting out a slow breath and trying to calm his nerves before he could squeak again.  Phil made Dan nervous.  He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to unpack the reason behind that for that right now, but he could at least acknowledge it.  Still slightly jittery, he gestured wildly to the table.  “So, what would you recommend?”

Phil studied the food for a moment.  “I guess that depends on what you prefer.  Savory or sweet?  I’m partial to sweet things, myself.”

“I guess I like a bit of both?”

“Hmm, then I’m gonna say...try some of this salted popcorn.”  He gestured to one of the plastic bags.  “And maybe some jelly babies?  Or Maltesers?”

Dan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.  “Wait, you have Maltesers?”

Phil chuckled and dug around in a bag until he pulled out familiar shiny red packaging.  “I only bought one pack, so you can have them on one condition.  You have to share a few with me.”

Dan grabbed the pack.  “Deal!  God, one of my favorite pastimes is choking on those balls.”

Phil snorted, turning away from him.  He shifted on his feet again a few times before turning back towards Dan.  

Dan had to be imagining the tinge of pink to his cheeks, right?  His eyes glazed over as he watched Phil run his fingers through his hair, pushing it back into a quiff.  It was a good look.  Dan’s fingers itched to take a picture of him, but that would be weird.  They’d only just met.  In another universe, maybe he could.  But in this one?  In this one, Phil was clearing his throat, and Dan was snapping back to attention.

“Do you, uh, do you choke on those balls often?”

Dan laughed, bringing his hand up to rub at the warm spot blooming on his jaw.  Were they still talking about Maltesers?  “No, uh, only when I take in too much at once.  I nearly died when I was fifteen because I tried to swallow twenty at the same time without even chewing.  My grandma had to give me the Heimlich.”

“That sounds traumatizing.”

“It was.”  Maybe he was biased, but Dan thought that Phil’s eyes were even prettier when he was smiling.  His smile was contagious.  Dan found himself grinning like a fool as he piled a plate with popcorn and Maltesers.  

Phil piled his own plate with a variety of sweets and bumped their shoulders together when he was finished.  “Will you sit by me for this thing?  My residents are lovely, but I’m kind of sick of them at this point.”

Dan’s breath caught in his throat.  He could feel his heartbeat pulsing erratically in his fingertips.  He’d only known this man for a matter of fifteen minutes, but there was already something vaguely familiar about the way he made all the blood rush to Dan’s ears.  He bit his lip.  

“Yeah, alright.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Don't tell Jack."_  
>  Dan is a first-year student at the University of Manchester. Jack is his RA. And Phil is Jack's best friend, another RA, and quite possibly about to be the love of Dan's life. Dan and Phil just have a long road of keeping secrets from Jack before they fall in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to the (as of now) unnamed group chat and [britt](http://moossage.tumblr.com/) for yelling at me and encouraging me to finish this during typical nap hours.  
> technically we're still in "next week" so you can't yell at me yet.

Dan could feel his heartbeat vibrating against the ribs inside his chest.  He tried to temper it with a few measured breaths but he was only marginally successful.  The little silver devil in his brain was prodding him with a stick.  What reason could Phil have for wanting to sit next to him while they watched Planet Earth II in the communal lounge on Dan’s floor?  Even if he really was sick of his residents at this point in the semester, why didn’t he just find a space next to Jack?  They were friends, after all.  Or at least, Jack had said they were.  Surely, Phil wasn’t choosing to sit next to Dan because he liked him.  They’d only just met, and besides, Dan was a fucking mess.  He was probably just being nice.  Whatever the case, Dan wasn’t going to complain about it.

They made their way over to the small couch pushed up against the wall and fit themselves onto the long cushion it supported.  Dan didn’t even realize that a line of people had been forming behind them at the snack table until he was settled in, his plate of snacks balanced neatly on his lap.  The line wasn’t super long.  He recognized a few more people from his floor who had filtered in, but another eight or so of Phil’s residents were huddled together at the back of the line, too.  Dan kept a wary eye on everyone as he took a long, slow breath.  It was something his doctor had told him to do when he got overwhelmed in bigger groups of people.  It was just nerves.  God, he was glad they were watching Netflix tonight.  He didn’t think he’d be able to handle ten other people talking around him at once without feeling his chest tighten and his entire body tense up when he had to hold a conversation with complete strangers.  Just the thought of having to hold a conversation with a bunch of strangers was making his chest tighten and his body tense up.  He never had anything interesting to say.

Dan took another deep breath and then glanced up at the seating arrangement Jack had set up.  It could probably fit eight people comfortably, but there was no way everyone would be able to fit on the couches.  He turned to Phil with a small smile, ready to tease him for the unnecessary number of people he’d gotten to join them—Phil’s first impression of him be damned—but the words got caught in his throat.  Phil was staring at the plate on his own lap, brow furrowed as if deep in thought.  Part of Dan thought that he should never look like that, eyes downcast, lips turned down just enough to be noticeable, fingertips tapping an erratic rhythm against his thigh.  The other part of him, though, thought that even with a frown on his face, Phil was...pleasant to look at.  Beautiful, even.  As Dan took in his lovely profile, he felt the tension slowly fall away from his shoulders.  It was strange, really.  How one minute, this man he’d only just met could make anxiety bubble up in Dan’s chest by being _nice_ , and the next minute, he could make all of that anxiety melt away without even looking at him.  Without meaning to, Dan found himself following the natural contours of Phil’s face with his eyes.  

He had impossibly high cheekbones.  The kind that Dan always wanted to swipe a thumb over or maybe press a barely-there kiss onto, just to see if they were real.  His nose was hooked, and from the side it stuck out like a short beak that Dan kind of wanted to nuzzle against.  Now really wasn’t the time for that, though.  They’d just met.  _They’d just met._  Dan dropped his gaze to the space between their bodies.  It wasn’t much.  Maybe a few centimeters—the sofa they were sat on was pretty small to begin with—but it still felt like too much space.  Dan wished he could slide over those few extra centimeters and press their shoulders together.  He’d only have to turn his head to whisper in Phil’s ear, then, and the same for Phil.  He settled for knocking his knee against Phil’s to get his attention.

Phil looked up at him, his frown immediately morphing into a wide smile.  “Are you ready to watch some penguins?” he asked quietly.

“Fuck yeah.”  Dan popped a piece of popcorn in his mouth.  Anything to distract himself now that Phil’s full attention was on him when anyone could walk up and claim it away.  “And some komodo dragons.  And leopards.”

Phil’s eyebrows shot up.  “I take it you’ve seen this before?”

“Does that mean you have, too?”

There was a brief pause before Phil answered, and in that moment, Dan’s heart jumped up into his throat.  Phil’s eyes had dropped back down to his lap, and he’d picked up a jelly baby, rolling it between his fingers, and Dan had no idea what it was supposed to mean.  It didn’t _have_ to mean anything but...had he said the wrong thing?  He couldn’t _think_ of anything wrong with asking if Phil had seen this show they were about to watch before, but he also wasn’t a mind-reader.  

Just as he was preparing to blurt out that it didn’t matter, that Phil didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, Phil looked back up from his lap, a sheepish grin worming its way onto his face.  He wasn’t mad.  Dan’s heart slowly made its way back into his chest cavity.

“Yeah, uh, I have actually.  I could probably make better use of my time by studying or something but.”  Phil scratched at the back of his neck.  “I just really need a break.”

Dan barked out a surprised laugh.  “Same, actually.  I could literally feel my brain dissolving into dust back in my room.  I just.  I needed to get out for a bit.”

This time it was Phil who knocked their knees together.  “I’m sure you deserve a break from whatever you’re working on.”

“Deserve?  Maybe.  Although I’m not entirely convinced it’s what I _should_ be doing right now.”

Phil paused again, his eyes trailing over the lines of Dan’s face, as if they could provide him an adequate reply to Dan’s mediocre conversation.  Phil’s eyes brought warmth to Dan’s cheeks, which he desperately tried to bat down with each passing second, to no avail. 

When Phil finally spoke again, his eyes were passing over the slope of Dan’s jaw, but he wasn’t really there with Dan.  Dan couldn’t really blame him for that.  He knew he was a hard person to hold a conversation with, but knowing this still didn’t stop his ears from perking up like a dog’s the second Phil began speaking.  “I can guarantee you that it’s not what you _should_ be doing.  The most important lesson I’ve learned at uni is that there are some rules worth breaking and some...not.”

Phil’s eyes met his again, and he wondered what it would be like to dive into them.  The water in the Mediterranean had been so _warm_ all those years ago.  Dan had been able to swim in it for hours and sitting there with Phil’s Mediterranean eyes trained on his, he thought that he could probably spend twice the time he’d spent swimming just staring back at him.

That time was cut short thirty seconds later when a leggy blonde giggled shrilly in front of them.

“Hello, Phil!”  She waved to Phil, and Dan was struck with the urge to shrink back into the cushions until they sucked him in.  She was taller than most girls, long legs poking out of tiny shorts, and her wavy gold hair cascaded over her shoulders like the hair in all those hair commercials.  She was so conventionally beautiful, the kind of beautiful that made Dan wish he could hide himself away somewhere he could never be compared to her.

He glanced over to Phil who was, rather expectedly, looking at the girl before them.

“Oh, uh, hi Melanie,” Phil said, unconsciously knocking his knee against Dan’s again.

She rocked back and forth on her heels, a smile toying at her lips.  “Thank you for inviting us, Phil,” she said coyly.

“Oh.  Yeah, uh, sure.  The more the merrier, right?”  Phil’s eyes slid to his lap, and his knee nudged Dan’s again.  Was that just something he did when he was nervous?

Melanie continued to stare at him with wide brown eyes, and Dan kind of wanted to tell her to shove off.  “Of course!" she said.  "Although I think there might be a few too many people here for all the seats.  We might have to squeeze together if we all want to fit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.  Unless some people are willing to sit on the floor.”  His knee hit Dan’s.

Melanie nodded, her eyes glazed over as she stared at Phil, tongue flicking out over her lips.  “Well, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.  Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Oh.  Er, it’s already pretty tight over here,” Phil said lamely, his knee staying in his own space this time.

“Nonsense,” she said, gesturing to the two of them.  “I can sit between the two of you if you don’t want to be pressed up against some rando.  I know my ex-boyfriend was really uncomfortable when he had to be crammed in close to other guys.”

Dan felt bile rise in his throat.  “Sounds like toxic masculinity,” he muttered to his lap.

Phil snorted beside him, and Dan looked over to find him looking back with a mirthful smirk.  Phil turned his attention to his resident, looking her directly in the eyes as he slid across the sofa seat towards Dan, making his eyes blow wide, and suddenly there was no need for him to knock his knee against Dan’s because his entire right side was pressed up against Dan’s left side.  

Dan forgot how to breathe.  

Sure, he’d been thinking about how it might feel to have their shoulders pressed together just minutes before, but now that it was actually _happening_...he wasn’t prepared.  Especially not when it was more than just their shoulders.  Heat spread from his head to his toes as every nerve in his body caught fire where Phil was touching him.  God, he was hopeless.  They were even fully clothed, for fuck’s sake.

Somewhere off in the distance, Phil was speaking, saying _Dan and I are actually sharing our snacks, but you can sit on this side_ , but all Dan could focus on was _Phil_.  He watched from somewhere outside of his own body as Phil gestured vaguely to the nearly non-existent space beside him with a grim smile.  Melanie squeezed herself in, and Phil turned his head to look at Dan, and it was like his consciousness was sucked back into his body.  Jesus fuck, they were close.

“I’m so sorry,” Phil muttered softly, his brow furrowing as he scanned Dan’s face.  “Are you uncomfortable?  I can move.  Or I can ask her to move.  Or I can text Jack and ask him to find more chairs.”

Dan took in a long, shaky breath, finally remembering that, yes, he actually had to breathe if he wanted to stay alive.  He blinked a few times and then shook his head minutely.  “It’s okay.  I’m okay.”  He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Phil or himself, but he could unpack that later.  With a small smile, he nudged Phil with his elbow and set his plate across both of their laps.  Phil’s eyes lit up as he grinned back and did the same with his own plate of snacks.

They both settled in, switching their attention to Jack, who was fiddling with the mousepad on his laptop, waiting for everyone else to settle before he hit play.  And much to Dan’s surprise, most of them had.  He’d been so focused on all things _Phil_ and the intrusion of his resident that he hadn’t even noticed people filtering over from the snack table.  All of the seats were filled up with more people than there were actually meant to be pressed up against each other.  A few more were scattered around on the floor.  The last two people meandered over from the snack table and settled themselves onto the floor as well.

Jack grinned from over at his laptop.  “Hey everybody!  Thanks for coming.  I’ll get this started and then I’ll send around a sign-in sheet.”  He wiggled the cursor again and pressed play before hitting the lights and handing the sheet to the person closest to him and searching for his own place to sit down.  There weren’t any seats left for him to sit in, and briefly Dan wondered if he should offer his, but Jack sat himself on the floor by Dan’s feet, and he seemed content.  Or maybe Dan just really didn’t want to move.  He never claimed to be a good person.

Dan switched his attention to the TV just as the opening credits finished rolling and was hit with the most vivid picture of the mountains he would ever get to see.  Jagged peaks powdered with snow with cloudy mists filling up the valleys between them filled up the entire screen, and Dan found himself once again awed by the absolute stunning detail that this series brought to nature.  Every image they produced was so clear, so pristine—much more so than anything his own eyes could ever create for him.  Not that he ever went outside enough to actually experience nature firsthand, but that was beside the point.  

The scenes changed as David Attenborough’s voice flooded through the speakers, morphing into deserts, forests, prairies, oceans, even cities.  Dan had seen this before, but it still amazed him sometimes.  Wildlife could even thrive in cities.  He was so enraptured, he didn’t notice the way Melanie laid her hand on Phil’s arm in a way that would surely ignite the little green monster in him.  The little green monster that had no right to be there in the first place.  That is, he didn’t notice until Phil stiffened beside him.  He forced his attention from the screen to Phil, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Phil glanced to his left arm and then back to Dan before tactfully dragging it away from where Melanie was grasping it and toward one of the plates in their laps, using pillaging Dan’s popcorn as a pretense for needing the arm to be out of her reach.  Dan couldn’t even bring himself to be bothered.  At least not by Phil digging through his popcorn.  He was a little bothered that Melanie had tried to make a move on Phil in the first place, but Phil had pulled away.  Why _had_ he pulled away?

Dan leaned in to whisper to him, stifling a laugh as a few pieces of popcorn went flying through the air.  “Not to be intrusive,” he said, just loudly enough for Phil to hear, “but are you not into her?”

Phil’s teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, and it took all of Dan's willpower to not follow that movement with his eyes.  With a quick glance to Jack, who was happily engrossed with the animals on the screen, Phil leaned in closer towards Dan and whispered, “No, I’m not.  Why?  Are you?”

Dan’s eyes widened.  He hadn’t thought he’d been giving that impression, but there was no way to really tell how people perceived you sometimes.  “No.”  He flashed Phil a small smile.  “I just wondered because she’s _clearly_ interested.”

Phil smiled sadly.  “Ah.  Well, even if I was, it’s not something that I could ever pursue.”

“What do you mean?  I thought schools weren’t allowed to prohibit relationships between RAs and residents anymore?”

Phil glanced at Jack again.  “That’s true, but it’s still not...advised.  If I were to date a resident and then we broke up, it could cause a lot of unneeded tension on the floor, or even throughout the whole building.”

Dan’s ears were ringing.  Did that mean he had no chance?   _Chance_.  He scoffed internally.  It wasn’t like he was the kind of person who would ever _actually_ try to pursue something with Phil.  No matter how hot he found a person—let alone _Phil_ —Dan was a coward, through and through.

Phil searched his face again.  “Sometimes it’s...tempting to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what I want but,” he continued.  “But remember earlier when I said that there are some rules worth breaking and some that just aren’t?”

Dan nodded.  His ears were still ringing, but he needed to hear this.  If Phil shut him down before he could really start to catch feelings, it would all be okay.  They could still be friends.  Or at least casual acquaintances.  Dan was pretty sure that he'd take any kind of relation to Phil at this point, as long as he got to be around him.

Phil looked down at his lap.  “This is one of them.  It’s not necessarily an official rule.  I just don’t think it’s something I should mess with.”

Dan looked down at his own lap as Phil looked back up at him.  Phil didn’t need to see the obvious look of disappointment on Dan’s face.  He’d never been good at hiding his feelings.  He knew it was there.  The Maltesers on his plate stared back at him, taunting him.  He wasn’t even hungry for them right now, but he picked one up anyways, rolling it between his fingers.

Phil’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out and squeeze Dan’s hand, and Dan felt a lump forming in his throat.  Phil settled his hand on his lap, instead, and as Dan settled back in to watch the rest of their Planet Earth marathon, he could almost ignore the way his own hand itched to squeeze Phil’s.  Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for putting up with me :)  
> [like/regblog on tumblr!](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/173979806669/buoy)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i busted out 3k words yesterday so here's a little snack for you if you've been following this. thank you, thank you, thank you to [katie](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/) for catching all of my tense slips and poking holes in the places where it just wasn't working this chapter!!! you're pretty cool :))

It was only when he felt the dull ache at the little divot in the back of his neck during his 4pm lecture that Dan realized he hadn't eaten anything all day.  Hunger headaches were his nemesis, and if he didn't feed himself soon, he knew he was going to wind up with a full-on migraine.  He massaged the back of his neck as he stared blankly at the professor at the front of the room.

She was a lovely woman - knowledgeable, kind, and always willing to look over Dan’s papers in advance if he was struggling.  In fact, if Professor Lyons weren't the person she was, Dan would probably never show up again.  Early American Literature was  _boring_.  He actually couldn't figure out why it was that she loved to teach it so much, but he supposed he had no real room to complain.  It was an easy A, so long as he actually participated.

Professor Lyons was going on and on about colonial America, writing key terms on the board, which Dan religiously copied down into his own notebook, despite having no idea what their importance was because he wasn't actually listening.  Dan sighed, thinking about the waffle maker in the dining hall.  He knew he should probably be teaching himself to cook back at the communal kitchen in Halls, but ever since he almost burned down the whole building a few weeks ago, he’d been more and more wary about ever stepping foot inside there again.  It wasn’t  _his_  fault that no one ever told him you're supposed to add water to noodles if you want them to cook.  Really, he couldn’t be blamed for accidentally setting his ramen on fire, and that was just the truth.

And the waffles in the dining hall were really easy to make.  The batter was already prepared.  All he had to do was pour it into a waffle iron and wait for the iron's timer to go off.  Dan licked his lips.  Waffles weren't even a British food, but with the increasing number of American students coming over to the UK to study, how could they  _not_ put waffle irons in every dining hall?  Dan sighed.  Just twenty more minutes.  Twenty more minutes and he could head over to the dining hall and eat his weight in waffles.  He just had to stave off this headache until then.

The classroom was stuffy.  The air was thick with the exhaustion of forty students, and the windows opened to the muggy world outside did nothing to quell the swelling weightiness in the room.  It was like the air was pressing down on Dan, digging into his shoulders, adding to the pressure already building up in his head.  He needed food, and then he needed a nap.   _Fuck his assignments_ , or at least, that was the kind of apathy he tried to feel for them.  In reality, he knew he'd probably wind up with his nose in  _The Coquette_  in approximately an hour, not really taking in any of the words on the page or what they meant but hoping to ascertain enough about the story to write a short essay on it without ever actually reading the entire thing.  It was an old, dirty trick, but this had been a long semester, it was almost over, and he was desperate for the end.

He tried to clear the fog from his head, to focus on the words spilling out of Professor Lyons' lips, lauding the mediocre feminism of colonial America.  He really tried.  Professor Lyons was passionate about American Literature, and it was clear in every single breath she took that  _this_  was her calling.  Her love for her work was the only thing that kept him returning to class twice a week, and part of him felt that he owed it to her to at least  _try_  to pay attention.  So he did try, he really did.  He focused his eyes to the front and tried take in all the information Professor Lyons was throwing at the class as she gestured widely to the chalkboard, rambling on about Eliza Wharton’s feminism, but the pressure inside his head grew and grew with each passing second until Dan was positive that it would burst.

By the time class ended, Dan was desperate for the pain in his head to ease up.  It felt like someone had stuck a tiny drum inside his head and was banging on it so hard that each strike against the drum felt like a strike against his brain, the vibrations bouncing off of his skull.  He wanted it to stop, but he'd run out of paracetamol two weeks ago.  He threw all of his belongings - his notebook, his pens, his copy of  _The Coquette_ , and the loose papers Professor Lyons had handed out at the beginning of class - haphazardly into the black hole of his backpack.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought blared from the blow horn in his mind that he should probably clean it out at some point, that he should probably do  _something_  besides scroll Tumblr aimlessly for hours on end. 

Before anyone else so much as put down their pen or closed their laptop, Dan stood up, swung his backpack over one shoulder, and pushed his way out the door and into the throng of people clogging up the hallway.  The hallways were always tight between classes, clusters of students waiting outside lecture rooms before their classes started while groups of students who’d just filled the classrooms poured out into the hallways.  It made Dan claustrophobic, the stagnant air created by too many bodies filling up his lungs with dust until he choked.  There wasn’t actually anything there to choke on, not really, but he always found himself struggling for breath anyway, and today was no different.  

Dan pushed his way past the hordes of people, shouldering them aside if he needed to.  He could feel his throat closing in on itself like a trash compactor, crushing his windpipe as if it was a useless organ that would be better off compressed into a tight cube.  He needed air.  Real, fresh air.  Just as he reached the front doors, people swelled around him, building a thick wall of bodies he now had to break down - or at least maneuver through the cracks of.  It felt like an eternity of treading water, like trying to fight against strong waves threatening to carry him in the opposite direction of where he needed to go.  Dan’s mind raced, his arms and legs weighed down with exertion, and his lungs burned.  But eventually eternity ended.  Dan broke through the swell, stumbling outside on unsteady legs and clawing at his throat, and gulped in as much air as his lungs could take in.

He could feel the heat of people's eyes on the back of his head as he crouched to the ground just off to the right of the doors, coughing and gasping for breath.  They were judging him.  Wrinkling their noses at the weak bitch who couldn't even walk through a crowd of people without feeling like his world was caving in around him.  Snickering to their friends about how pathetic he was.  And Dan was torn.  Part of him wanted to say  _fuck it_  and speed back to halls to lock himself in his room for the rest of the night.  The other, more primal part of him, though, knew that he had to eat.  He hadn't had time before he left for class in the morning and he hadn't had time  _between_  classes to grab anything.  So there he was, knelt on his knees, at a complete impasse.  Maybe if he just snuck into the dining hall and kept his head down, he could eat a quick waffle without anyone noticing and then sneak back out and back to his dorm room for the night.

His next inhale filled up his lungs, and he held his breath, puffing his cheeks out.  He could do it.  He  _would_  do it.  Mustering up every ounce of resolve he could find, Dan pushed himself to his feet, letting his breath out slowly.  His legs were still shaking as he descended the front steps of his lecture building, but he put one foot in front of the other until he reached the bottom.  Then he put one foot in front of the other until he reached the dining hall, keeping his eyes locked on the pavement for the whole journey, and only yielding to traffic when he had to cross the street.

The moment he stepped inside the dining hall, he knew he'd made the right decision.  The smell of food - no matter how processed and overpriced it was - overtook his senses.  His mouth watered, and his eyes squeezed shut.  Yeah, this was the right decision.

He headed straight for the waffle station, already tasting the sweet, sugary syrup and whipped cream, which he was going to pile on top of his waffles once they finished cooking, on the tip of his tongue.  Absently, he flicked out his tongue and ran it over his lips, reaching for a small cup to fill with batter.  When he stuck it beneath the dispenser and tried to siphon some of the thick beige substance into the cup, however, none came out.  He tried it a few more times, flipping the lever up and down, side to side, as if a change in direction could change the outcome, but nothing happened.  With a sigh, he flicked the small cup away from him.  There went the only thing he'd been looking forward to all day.

Dan brought a hand up to his face and rubbed it, groaning lowly.  He could always just grab a slice of shitty pizza and shove it down his throat.  Pretend it wasn't just glorified cardboard.  He could, but it sure as hell wasn't what he  _wanted_.  He wanted a waffle doused in sugar and some paracetamol for his throbbing head, and some vodka to take the edge off this hellish afternoon.

Resigning himself to an evening of disappointment, to an evening of shitty pizza and a splitting headache and no vodka, he tossed one more longing look at the non-existent waffle batter and let out another begrudging sigh.  Just as he was digging his heel into the ground, just as he was getting ready to spin around and trudge off to the pizza station in this sad joint, Dan felt a warm hand press into his arm, sending bursts of fire coursing through his veins, and he nearly jumped out of his own skin.

He sprung away, ready to tell off whichever asshole thought it was okay to touch a complete stranger unannounced, or that it was okay to touch a complete stranger, period. When he spun around, though, his mouth ran dry. Because it wasn't a complete stranger who had touched his arm. It was Phil, standing there with his hand still suspended mid-air, his mouth hanging slightly open, and his face scrunched together in confusion. Dan had never in his life wanted to dissolve into mist more than he did in that moment.

Here he was, knees still quivering under the weight of panic, face still flushed from forgetting to breathe for so long.  And standing in front of the hottest guy he’d seen in months.  Not that that really mattered.  Phil had made it pretty clear last night that he wasn’t interested in hooking up with - let alone dating - any of the residents in the Halls where he worked.  Dan needed to put the thought of anything ever happening between them out of his mind as soon as possible.  But some things are easier said than done.  And with Phil looking back at him with wide, summery eyes, worry stitched across all the planes of his face, Dan was pretty sure that this would be one of those things.

It was only when he noticed Phil’s mouth moving, forming indiscernible words, that Dan realized he’d gotten lost inside his own mind again.  He shook his head. “Sorry?”

Phil frowned and said in a softer voice than Dan thought was possible, “Dan, are you okay?”  And in that moment, he was absolutely positive that trying to resist any burgeoning feelings for Phil Lester would be one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

Clearing his throat, Dan tried to calm his still racing thoughts and smooth out his face.  “Oh,” he said slowly, “uh yeah.  Yeah, I’m fine.  I just.”  He gestured lamely to the waffle makers behind him.  “I wanted a waffle, but it looks like they’re out.”  He paused, casting his eyes to the ground as he mumbled, “And I really need some fucking paracetamol.”

Phil let out a surprised laugh, and Dan’s heart shot up like a rocket flying towards the sun at the notion of both making this beautiful man laugh and catching him by surprise.  “Is that all?” Phil asked.  Dan’s eyes flicked back up to mirthful blue lagoons and a wide smile, and he nodded mutely.  Phil held up an index finger.  “Wait here.”

He jogged over to the lunch and dinner prep station a few meters away and leaned over the counter, calling to someone named Marge on the other side.  They were too far away for Dan to pick up on most of what they were saying, but he heard Marge call out  _Philip_  and watched their eyes light up as they realized who was trying to get their attention.  Part of him felt kin to them. Any time Phil paid him any attention, Dan felt exactly how Marge looked in this moment.  Another, more animalistic part of him kind of wanted to deck Marge, however.  They had Phil’s full attention, and even though it was completely irrational of Dan to be jealous right now, he couldn’t stop the surge of boiling rage that bubbled up as he watched the two of them.

Phil was grinning from ear to ear, gesturing wildly as he spoke.  Marge was nodding along, looking completely enamoured with the strange charisma that oozed from the man in front of them, and like  _same_ , but Dan kind of wanted to be the one who Phil gestured wildly to.  It was stupid and he knew it, but it didn’t stop the feelings from raging inside of him.

Phil finished whatever his spiel had been about, dropping his arms to his sides, and Marge’s eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to the side, frizzy grey curls bouncing into their face, and they said something slowly back to him.   Dan’s heart jumped in his chest when Phil turned to look at him over his shoulder and gave him a small smile - one Dan couldn’t help but return - before turning back to Marge.  He gestured vaguely to where Dan stood off to the side, and Dan felt more than saw Marge’s eyes settle on him, but he was too focused on Phil to do the polite thing and smile back.  But even his complete concentration on Phil Lester wasn’t enough to stop the fire that erupted in his cheeks as he felt Marge’s gaze on his face.  

They were studying him, surely taking note of the bright pink tinge that had taken over his face while looking at Phil.  Dan wanted to tell them to fuck off, but that would be rude.  And they turned their gaze back to Phil before Dan ever would have been able to muster up the courage anyway, but it was mostly because it would be rude.  They said something to Phil, and he looked down at his shoes for a minute before saying something back, and Marge nodded.  They turned around to fiddle with something at the very edge of the prep station, before turning back to Phil with a wicked smile and a cup filled to the brim with waffle batter.  He took it gently from their hands, thanking them profusely, and then turned back to Dan with a triumphant grin.

Dan’s jaw dropped.  Phil had managed to get just enough batter from the cooks for Dan to make a waffle?  It wasn’t that he was surprised that Phil had managed it.  Phil could probably get  _him_  to do anything with just a look.  He was mostly surprised that Phil had gone out of his way to do this for  _Dan_  of all people.  Dan wasn’t special.  Certainly not special enough to not have to forego waffles for the rest of the day like the rest of the students.  But Phil had made sure he got one anyway.  The weak walls that Dan was trying to build up around his heart after Phil’s declaration the night before were already crumbling.  

Phil passed him the small cup, and Dan couldn’t tell if Phil’s hands were deliberately lingering against his or if that was just his own mind playing tricks on him once again.  God, he needed to get his shit together. He thanked Phil quietly and poured the batter into one of the waffle makers.  When he’d closed the lid and flipped the iron over to begin the timer, he turned to look back at Phil.  And Phil was already looking back at him, lips pink and parted slightly and cheeks tinged pink as well.  Dan wanted to taste every inch of pink, to see if it really had the flavor of candy floss it looked like it did.  But that would be inappropriate, especially after the way last night had ended - with the explicit knowledge that Phil wasn’t interested and a couple awkward goodbyes.  

“Erm,” Phil said, finally snapping back to awareness.  “I’m gonna go grab a cup of coffee.  Do you want any?”

“Actually, yeah.  I’d love some.  Um.  No cream, two sugars.”

Phil’s returning grin was blinding.  “A man of taste, I see.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”  Dan scratched at the back of his head.

“That’s okay.  I know.”

Phil gave a small wave and headed off for the counter where they brewed the coffee.  Dan turned back to his waffle before he could get caught staring at something that wasn’t his to stare at.  His waffles were almost done anyway, the clock ticking down to the last fifteen seconds.  When the timer beeped, he flipped the iron back over and opened it, using a pair of tongs to lift the glorious looking waffle off the iron and onto his plate.  He poured a layer of syrup over it, added a few swirls of whipped cream, and only wondered briefly if this much sugar would give him diabetes.

The moment he spun around, plate and fork held ready in hand, Dan’s eyes landed on Phil.  He was carefully balancing two brimming coffee mugs in his hands, focused on  not spilling any of the hot liquid and burning his hands.  Figuring it was best not to startle him right now, Dan followed from a distance, waiting for Phil to set the mugs on a table along the wall before he made his presence known.  He cleared his throat as he set his plate on the table, only noticing when Jack’s head snapped up that he was sitting one seat over from where Phil had set the coffee down.  Dan shifted nervously from foot to foot as confusion and then recognition flashed across Jack’s face.  

“Dan!” he said.  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.  But welcome.”

“Erm.  Thank you!”

Phil’s gaze flicked up and down Dan’s face, and he had to take great effort to keep his cheeks from flaring up again.  “I invited Dan to sit with us,” Phil said.  Dan bit his lip.  That wasn’t exactly what had happened, but he wasn’t about to change the story when he kind of liked this narrative better.

Jack laughed loudly.  “I can’t believe you can remember the names of my residents but you can’t remember the names of your own!”

Phil sputtered as he slid into his seat.  “I  _could_  remember them if i tried.  There’s just.  A lot of them.  And I’ve only met a handful of yours.”  He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else, but closed it again a second later.

“Yeah, if you say so,” Jack teased.  He looked up, noticing that Dan was still standing.  “Dan, sit down.  I’m heading out for a meeting in a minute, but Phil’s nice.  I promise. He can keep you company.”

“Yeah,” Phil cut in.  “I mean, if you want me to.  I could always leave if you prefer to eat alone.”

“Pfff, who prefers to eat alone?” Jack said with a laugh, and Dan didn’t have the heart to tell him that actually,  _he_  did.  Besides, he wasn’t about to ask Phil to leave when he was offering to stay.  Jack stood up, ruffling Phil’s hair with a grin as he walked by.  “See you back at Halls, Dan.”

Dan waved, watching with a tight smile as he walked off.  When Jack was finally out of sight, he turned back to Phil, who was already looking at him with a small, sad smile.  He pushed a coffee mug towards Dan, and Dan accepted it gratefully, wrapping both of his hands around it and sniffing the bittersweet aroma.  

Phil’s eyes lit up for a second, and he held up a finger again before turning to rummage through his own backpack hanging off the back of his chair.  He pulled something out, glancing around himself as he played with something in his lap.  Then, very, very discreetly, he slid two capsules of paracetamol across the table to Dan and stuffed the bottle of them back in his bag.  

“I’m, um, I’m not supposed to give these out, but you said you had a headache.  Just erm, don’t tell Jack.  I don’t think he’d rat us out, but it’s probably safer to err on the side of caution.”  

“I won’t say anything,” Dan replied.  “And, uh, thank you.  I ran out a few weeks ago.  I’ll grab some more soon.”  He cut off a piece of waffle, sticking the capsules into one of the divots, and shoved it into his mouth, swallowing before he could gag at the feeling of the capsules touching the back of his throat.  He chased it down with a sip of coffee and tried not to think about what Phil had made of the weird ritual Dan had just performed.  Phil took a sip of his own coffee, watching wordlessly as Dan finally picked up his fork and continued to stab into his obnoxiously sugary waffle.

Part of the reason Dan usually preferred to eat alone was awkward silences.  Sitting there with Phil, he realized that this entire encounter was full of silences that he had no control over.  But for once, it wasn’t awkward.  He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless words or sounds, feel like his chest was going to cave in if someone didn’t say something soon.  Dare he think it, but being here with Phil was almost...comfortable.

Phil drank his coffee slowly, and Dan alternated between taking careful bites of his waffle and sipping at his own coffee.  Occasionally, one of them would pose a question to the other.   _Was Dan enjoying his waffle?  Phil had put a lot of effort into making sure he could have one._   (Yes.)   _What was Phil studying that had him staying for a fifth year at uni?_   (English Language and Linguistics, but he’d made the decision too late to graduate with everyone from his starting year.  Or the year after that.)

Eventually, though, the waffle disappeared, and the last drop of Dan’s coffee trickled its way down his throat.  Dan set his mug down, gulping when he realized that they’d have to go their separate ways soon.  It was probably for the best, though.  It was probably unhealthy for him to be this disappointed at the thought of parting ways with someone who definitely wasn’t as interested in him as he was in them.  

Phil cleared his throat, and Dan looked up in surprise.  “Would you, uh,” Phil said quietly, “would you want to come play some video games back on my floor or something?”

Dan’s mouth ran dry once again.   _Fuck_ , he wanted to say yes.  But if he was going to try to make an effort to get over this stupid crush, he should probably do his best to stay away if he had the option.  He should have told Phil he wanted to eat alone earlier, but he hadn’t had the willpower.  Somehow, he needed to muster up that willpower now.

“Oh.  Erm, as much as I’d like to,” Dan said carefully, “I have a paper I should really be working on.  Y’know, that one I mentioned last night?  It’s due by Sunday before midnight, so I only have a couple more days to finish it.”

Phil nodded slowly.  “Oh yeah, I get that.  There are probably some things I should be working on, too, anyways.”  He paused, searching Dan’s face up and down, and if Dan didn’t know better, he’d think that Phil looked  _nervous_.  “Um, would you...I mean, do you?”  He stopped, taking a deep breath.  “Would it be alright with you if we walked back to Halls together?”

With rapt curiosity, Dan watched Phil’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulped.  Phil  _was_  nervous, but Dan didn’t know what about.  He was just Dan; there was nothing extraordinary about him, no reason for Phil to be nervous.  He shrugged, hoping an air of nonchalance would help Phil relax.  “Yeah, sure.  Whenever you’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :))
> 
>  
> 
> [like and reblog on tumblr](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/174451582299/buoy)


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is long overdue. i'm going to be abroad for the next couple weeks and i'm not taking my laptop, so it'll probably be at least 3 more weeks before you'll see another chapter for this fic (or anything from me period).
> 
> this chapter would not be here without [knlalla](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/), so all my love and thanks to her for sorting through the absolute mess i wrote initially and still managing to find some things she liked.

Dan waited just outside the canteen while Phil took their dishes to the belt. He’d tried to argue with Phil, to insist that he was quite capable of taking care of his own dishes, thank you very much, but Phil had only waved him off. So, out he went to wait for Phil.

It was cold. Actually, scratch that. It was bloody freezing out there. Dan was sure that if they didn’t make it back to Halls soon, his tits would catch frostbite and fall off. Forget his fingers and toes; he needed his nipples. (Okay, maybe that was a _bit_ of an exaggeration, but it definitely hadn’t been this cold when he left for class.)

Dan tugged on the straps of his backpack, pulling them tighter against his chest as if that could somehow do more to block out the wind. It was no use. Blasts of arctic air whipped against his face, carving deep into his skin until he was sure ice had settled in his bones. He hoped Phil wouldn’t be too long.

The entrance to the canteen faced the quad - a conglomerate of brick and mortar houses in the middle of campus where upperclassmen usually lived - and it was currently packed full of students returning from their last classes of the day. A shiver completely unrelated to the chilly air ran down Dan’s spine; after the afternoon he’d had, the thought of trying to push his way through another swell of people made his skin crawl. He had half a mind to dart back inside and press himself into the wall until the crowd cleared away, but surely Phil would be here any minute.

He took a couple deep breaths. It wasn’t like a bunch of strangers were plotting to huddle around him and close in on him until he suffocated. Sometimes his mind played tricks on him, made him believe that people he’d never met before could really be out to get him like that, but it wasn’t true. Dan knew it wasn’t true. And Phil would be here any second now, Phil would—

“Dan?”

Dan spun around. Phil stood in front of the door, brows furrowed together and a frown on his face.

“Are you alright?” Phil took a step closer, reaching a hand out in front of him and then retracting it like he wanted to grab Dan by the shoulder but then thought better of it. Dan didn’t blame him. He knew he was a lot to handle, and it would probably be best if Phil figured that out sooner rather than later. If Dan were a good person, he would warn Phil off right then and there.

Instead, he cast his eyes to the ground. “‘m fine.”

Phil didn’t look convinced, but he smiled anyway and reached out his hand again, this time actually allowing his hand to press into the small of Dan’s back, nudging him away from the canteen. Dan’s breath caught in the back of his throat.

The way back to Halls was through the quad, where a mass of people still milled about outside. He didn’t want to panic in front of Phil, but he also wasn’t sure there was any way to avoid the impending claustrophobia. It would be so easy for the crowd to swallow Dan whole, but beside him, Phil was a constant.

His hand burned steadily through the thin cotton of Dan's shirt, a stark contrast to the wintry air beating against their skin now. Dan took a deep breath. The crowd didn't look nearly as big when Phil was at his side. He and Phil were both obnoxiously tall guys - big enough to push their way through the people packed together like sardines. There was really nothing for Dan to worry about; they'd pass through the quad without a hitch and then they'd be on their way, back to Halls.

At least, that's what he thought before Phil turned to the left instead of going straight through the quad. Dan frowned. He'd thought that the fastest way back to Halls was straight out from the canteen and then a couple streets over, but Phil seemed completely oblivious to this route. Maybe he just preferred a slightly longer one with less traffic. Honestly, with the way Dan’s life had been going lately, it would probably be a good idea for him to follow in Phil's footsteps.

It was strange, really, how Phil seemed to know exactly what Dan needed at any given time. A smile, a little extra love from the cooks in the canteen, a hand pressed to the small of his back to ground him in the present moment, a change in direction. Phil _knew_. He knew, and Dan had no idea how he knew, but it was kind of a miracle. Actually, it really was a miracle.

Dan's own mum had never understood why phone calls were so hard to make, why he always needed an excuse to get him out of extended periods of social interaction, why she'd sometimes find him pacing the hallway in the middle of the night, wearing holes in the carpet just to pass the time when he couldn’t fall asleep. Granted, Dan didn't know why any of these things were true for him, either. And chances were that Phil didn't know why, that no one would ever really know _why_ , but Phil was here now, and whether he realised it or not, everything he'd done since they first met seemed to help Dan.

Dan didn't believe in fate, it was just a rubbish ploy to make people think they had any sort of significance in the world. But with Phil, he started to wonder if fate might actually be a real thing, if he and Phil had been destined to meet. It was stupid, really, and he knew it, but there was something so _unreal_ about Phil; it made Dan wonder if there just might be some other unreal things out there for him to start believing in.

Something nudged against his ribs gently, and he was jolted back to the present. He'd been so lost in his own head, blindly following Phil wherever he led, that he hadn't noticed when Phil had dropped his hand from Dan's back so he could stuff it into his hoodie pocket. It was Phil's elbow poking into his ribs now, stuck out at an awkward angle, as if it took considerable effort to contort it just to get Dan's attention.

"You're quiet," Phil said softly.

Dan shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

 _You. How unbelievable you are._ "Oh, erm, just about this paper I have to write."

"What's your paper about?" Phil wrung his hands inside his sweatshirt pocket as he turned to catch Dan's eye.

Dan stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What?" Phil said, bumping his shoulder against Dan's to get him moving again.

"Really? Are we going to resort to talking about our classes now? Is this the end of our friendship? Phil, it's only just begun." Dan cast his eyes towards the sky dramatically.

Phil chuckled lowly. "Are you a theatre student?"

"English Literature."

"Could've fooled me."

Dan turned to look at Phil, fully prepared to tell him that he wasn't being dramatic, thank you very much, he just preferred to not talk about school if he could help it, but the words caught in his throat. Phil was already looking back at him, summery eyes glinting back at him the same way those Mediterranean waters had glinted under the hot afternoon sun all those years ago. He was grinning widely, tongue poking out between slightly crooked teeth, and Dan was melting. Phil was teasing him, and all Dan could do was stare back helplessly, any words that could help his case long gone from his mind. _Fuck_.

He tore his gaze away from Phil's and wracked his brain, searching for anything he could use to change the subject, but he kept drawing a blank. It was only when they started to pass the building where he had most of his classes that Dan realised they weren't going in the right direction. He stopped again.

"Phil," he said slowly. "You do know that Halls are in the opposite direction, don't you?"

Phil looked behind them. "Oh. Is it?" When he turned back around, he wouldn’t look Dan in the eyes. "Oops," he said lamely.

"Phil," Dan said again. "Did you purposely start walking in the wrong direction?"

"Psh, _no_. I just have a very bad sense of direction."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yes. Don't you remember me almost showing up _late_ last night because I walked eight blocks in the wrong direction? I'm cursed." His cheeks were flushed pink, and Dan couldn't quite tell if that was from the cold or something else, but if he had to guess, he'd say a combination of both.

Dan smirked, but chose not to press any further. Phil was either fibbing or embarrassed, and Dan didn't want to be the one to make him feel worse than he already felt.

"Well my tits are gonna fall off if we don't make it back soon," he said instead. "C'mon." Dan placed a hand on Phil's elbow to steer them back towards Halls, and it felt as though Phil leaned into the touch almost instantly: his eyes fluttered shut, and his elbow grew twice as heavy in Dan's hand. Surely he was imagining it, trying to convince himself that he could possibly have the same effect on Phil that Phil had on him. After all, Phil had made it very clear that he wasn't interested in residents. Dan sighed and shook his head, letting his hand drop from Phil's elbow. It was best to just put it out of his mind.

They made their way back to Halls much more slowly than Dan normally would have. He was half-tempted to grab Phil by the arm and drag him back to anywhere warm, but he also knew that as soon as they actually made it back to Halls, they'd have to part ways. And Dan wasn't ready for that - which was admittedly stupid on his part - so every time Phil stopped to point out something on their walk back, Dan stopped, too. For every squirrel, for every russet coloured leaf, for every building that held any kind of significance to the time Phil had spent at Manchester U, Dan gladly stopped.

Phil was enthusiastic about everything. About wildlife and plants and all of the friends he'd made while in school. It was strange, though; he talked about them as if he was saying goodbye. Each time they stumbled across something, his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face, but when they left it behind, his face fell. But Phil wasn't leaving. At least not yet. He still had one more semester to finish before he graduated.

Dan frowned, letting silence settle between them as they finished the route back. He itched to ask Phil if something was bothering him, why he could be so excited about something one moment and look crestfallen the next, but it sounded...invasive, even in his own head. Instead, he just tried to let himself enjoy the time he still had with Phil before they made it back. When they finally reached Halls, though, he felt a stone lodge in his throat.

They'd dragged out the walk, something that should normally have taken six minutes, for nearly half an hour. And every second of it had been pleasant as long as he blocked out the cold. Being with Phil made him feel the calmest he'd ever felt, and he honestly wasn't sure if he was ready to give it up.

It wasn't like he'd never see Phil again. They lived in the same building, after all, and Phil was best friends with Dan's RA. But after this day, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to being alone right now. Phil had some sort of supernatural calming powers that made Dan feel ten times better than he did without Phil around. He _was_ better with Phil.

As they made their way inside, a pressure began to build up in Dan's chest. His heart was pounding inside his ribs, beating so rapidly he wondered if it might explode at any second. When they stopped just inside the lobby, Phil turned to look at Dan, and all the blood rushed straight to Dan's head. Phil had his lip trapped between his teeth, and his eyes roamed up and down Dan's body with pupils blown out so to the rims of his irises, and Dan felt his mouth run dry.

Try as he might, he couldn't deny recognising that look in Phil's eyes for what it really was: intense attraction. Every fibre of Dan's being was urging him to step forward, to insert himself into Phil's space, to make sure that Phil knew _exactly_ what he would be missing if he gave this up. But Phil had said he couldn't pursue a relationship with a resident even if he was interested in them. Or that he shouldn't, at least. Did that mean that Dan shouldn't even try? Should he give up before he got his heart shattered?

Phil shook his head, cheeks tingeing pink as he realised what he'd been doing. He took a step back, as if putting distance between Dan and him would put distance between the feelings burgeoning in his chest. Or at least, that's how the hope swelling inside Dan made him want to interpret Phil's actions. Phil gestured behind himself, towards the door to the staircase at the end of the hall. "Erm, I know you have to get working on your paper," he said, avoiding Dan's gaze. "So, uh, I should get going. But I'll see you around?"

Dan gulped, nodding mutely. Phil gave him a tiny wave, and all Dan could do was stand there, trying to decide whether to follow him or not. It wasn't like his paper was due tonight. He could put it off for another day if he really needed to. But would Phil even want Dan to follow him back to his room, especially if he knew how much Dan currently wanted to back him against a wall just because of a _look_?

Phil flashed him one last hesitant smile before turning towards the stairwell, and a rush of bile flew up to the base of Dan's throat. "Phil," he blurted.

Phil spun back around. "Yeah?"

"Would you...mind...if I joined you, actually?"

The smile that crossed Phil's face was the biggest and most beautiful thing Dan had ever seen. "Yeah, of course! I'll just have to set up the game, but it should only take a few minutes. Did you want to come up now?"

"Uh, yeah! Of course, lead the way." Dan gestured towards the stairwell and followed Phil when he swung back around to make his way upstairs.

Phil glanced back at him as they climbed the steps. "You're sure about this? Didn't you say you have to work on your paper?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Paper's not due until Monday anyway."

"Oh. Cool!"

Dan grinned. He couldn't help himself. His thighs were burning and his lungs were on fire, but being around Phil - his smile, his enthusiasm - was enough to make anyone grin in spite of their pain.

They made it to the second-floor landing, and Phil pushed the door open. Dan followed him into the main hallway, surprised to find that it was almost identical to his own floor. The only real difference was that the cinderblock walls on this floor were pale yellow instead of white. The carpet was a shredded, gaudy, maroon and yellow mess just as it was four floors above, and the light fixtures on the ceiling emitted the same washed-out yellow flickers. If Dan squinted, it would probably actually look exactly the same.

Phil led Dan to his room, which dead center between both the north and the south wing. That was easier to remember than the number Dan had had to memorise for his own room before he'd moved in. His first week in uni had been hell. Being surrounded by so many different new people all at once, a new schedule, a new area he had to map out. It had been overwhelming, nerve-wracking, but here with Phil, watching him insert a small key into the lock on his door, Dan's hardly even noticed any nerves. The only thing preventing him from being completely calm was the way his stomach fluttered when Phil finally pushed the door open.

Phil waved Dan inside ahead of him, flicking on the lightswitch by the door so they could both see. "Make yourself comfortable," Phil said, letting the door swing shut behind them. "I'm just gonna set up the game."

Dan wandered further into the room. It was almost identical to his own, just without a second, empty bed along the opposite wall. Instead, Phil had room for an extra chair and a bookshelf set up in the corner that housed more DVDs than it did books (but Dan wouldn't judge him for that).

Phil's room was surprisingly tidy. Sure, there were papers strewn all over his desk, pens scattered in various places around the floor. But his closet was neat and there was no trash lying around. The room would have appeared completely organised if not for the loose paper and pens, the desk chair pushed back from its cubbyhole in the desk, and the topmost drawer of Phil's dresser, which was pulled all the way open to reveal a variety of boxer briefs and colourful socks.

"Is it okay?" Phil's voice broke Dan out of his observation, making him jump. "I know it's kinda messy, but I did try to tidy up a bit today whilst skiving off class. I had to be productive somehow."

Dan shook his head in amazement. "You think _this_ is messy? Clearly you need to see my room." Almost as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he clamped it shut. Was that too much? It wasn't like he was implying that Phil should see his room for anything other than the vortex of papers and clothes he had strewn everywhere. Not that he'd mind if Phil dropped by for...other reasons. Jesus, he needed to pull himself together.

As Dan gauged his reaction, though, he realised that Phil didn't seem all that put off by it. He was looking back at Dan with an amused smirk. "Maybe I do need to see your room," Phil said. "Although, I _guarantee_ you it wouldn't be the worst thing I've ever seen."

Dan's breath hitched. Phil wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, not really. Anyone would have responded to someone telling them they should see their room with _maybe I should_. It wasn't inherently flirtatious, it was just...that smirk playing at Phil's lips combined with the words slipping out of his mouth really didn't do much to help quell the hope building up inside Dan. His knees were already buckling at the mere _thought_ of what he could do with Phil, if he could just convince him that giving them a chance wouldn't be an awful idea. He needed to sit down.

He patted Phil's mattress distractedly, eyes skimming around the room. "Is it okay if I sit up here?"

Phil looked up from where he was fiddling with the buttons on his TV. "Hm? Yeah, of course! I told you to make yourself comfortable." He turned back to what he was doing, trying to find the right input for his Xbox whilst humming a vaguely familiar tune. Dan couldn't place it, but it didn't matter because Phil finally found the correct input and let out a quiet whoop. God, he was adorable. He even fucking whooped at the simplest of successes.

Phil fumbled around his TV stand for the Xbox remotes and spun around to face Dan when he finally got a hold on them. "Pick one," he said, sticking both of his hands underneath Dan's nose. Dan chose the one on the left and plucked it out of Phil's grasp.

"Get ready to lose, Philly," he teased, selecting the character and car he usually did as Phil flopped onto the mattress beside him.

"Oh, you're going down, Daniel. What's your last name?" Phil turned to look at him, not even watching the screen as he selected Bowser and the _least_ aerodynamic car available, but Dan could hardly focus on that. Phil was _right beside him_ and saying that Dan was going down. As if Dan needed to procure any more images in his head of what it might be like to go down on Phil.

Dan shook his head to clear it. "Howell. Yours?"

"Lester."

Dan smirked. "Well. Best of luck, Lester."

"Same to you, Howell."

They agreed on Rainbow Road, and in no time at all, they were off. Dan tried to focus on the game, he really did. But every time he shifted his whole body in sync with the movement of his cart, he would brush against Phil and his mind would white out for a solid three seconds. Long enough for him to veer off the path he was trying to keep on.

If Dan was being completely honest, Phil wasn't even that great of a Mario Kart player; he had a hard enough time staying on the track with fully functioning concentration. If they were playing a real round, one where Dan was on the top of his game and not getting distracted every time he glanced to his side and saw Phil's tongue poking out from between his teeth, he would be annihilating Phil. But alas, here he was, _not_ on the top of his game, so Phil won the first round. And the second. Dan eked out a win in the third round, but only just.

They were moving onto the fourth round now, and Dan was officially ready to show Phil Lester everything he could do on this track. He waited for the clock to finish counting down and launched himself through the starting line, zipping past Phil and all the other characters following closely behind him. They could eat dust for all he cared. From then on, it was just weaving in and out of the obstacles pushed in front of him, using ramps to propel himself forward, swerving out of the way of weapons thrown at him by the other racers. For just this round, he pretended that Phil didn't even exist beside him. He didn't even look at Phil's side of the screen.

It was only when Phil started chanting _yes, yes, yes_ at his side - like some porn star in those adult films Dan definitely didn't watch because his mother had told him not to - that Dan realised Phil had finally caught up. Even worse, when he snuck a glance over to Phil's side of the screen, he found Phil had a banana peel that was perfectly aimed for Dan's back, and Dan wouldn't have time to move. It hit him and he spun out, watching in horror as Phil whizzed past him.

"HA!" Phil shouted beside him. "Eat my ass, Danny!" And maybe Phil was so lost in the game that he had no idea what he was really saying, but Dan certainly knew. He tried to pretend he hadn't even heard it as he righted himself and took off after Phil's kart again, but the words were still there, rattling around in his brain.

So when his own unintended response tumbled out of his mouth, maybe he shouldn't have been all that surprised. "At least take me out to dinner first."

Phil froze completely beside him. His fingers stopped enthusiastically smashing the buttons on his controller, and his kart slipped over the side of the track. Dan somehow managed to keep his kart going straight and it coasted through the finish line, but he couldn't find it in himself to celebrate. He just gulped. What had he done?

Here they'd been, just playing a friendly game of Mario Kart, and he'd had to go and fuck everything up by suggesting that Phil take him on a date. Granted, Phil had made an innuendo first, but Dan didn't have to _react_ to Phil's innuendo. And definitely not like that. _Fuck. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Dan turned slowly to look at Phil, who was - surprisingly - already looking at him. Dan had expected him to have his eyes trained anywhere but on him. Phil's mouth was hanging open slightly, and his eyes traced all the lines of Dan's face.

"Phil," Dan said softly, "Phil, I..." He didn't even know how to finish that sentence. _I didn't mean that I want you to take me on a date?_ No, that was both insulting and untrue. _I really do want to eat your ass?_ No, that might be coming on a bit too strong. Dan didn't know _what_ to say, but that honestly didn't seem to matter. Phil looked as though he wasn't hearing a word Dan was saying, as though he was caught in some kind of trance.

His eyes continued to search Dan's face, as if it held the answers to all of life's toughest questions, and Dan couldn't bring himself to look away. Actually, with each passing second, it appeared as though those very eyes were growing closer and closer to Dan, and he couldn't quite tell if it was him or Phil who was leaning in. All he really knew was that one minute he and Phil were sitting a safe distance apart, and the next their foreheads were pressed together, the tips of their noses brushing, and he was finally getting to breathe in the same air as Phil Lester, something he'd been dreaming about doing since they'd met. Since...yesterday.

Jesus Christ, had it really only been a day since they'd met? It seemed impossible, staring into Phil's eyes in that moment, but it _was_ the truth, wasn't it? They'd really only _just_ met, and here Dan was, falling headfirst into love when he wasn't even sure it existed.

"Phil," he whispered again. And then their lips touched. It was tentative at first - only the lightest brush of lips against lips, but Dan was already craving more. _God_ , he wanted more. He wanted to push Phil back onto these bedsheets and snog him until both of their lips were rubbed raw. He wanted to strip away every inch of Phil's clothing until he lay bare beneath Dan. He wanted to wrap his hand around Phil's length and work him off slowly, or maybe go down on him, or eat him out, or fuck him, or be fucked by him. He wanted to do _everything_ with Phil, but he didn't even know if Phil wanted to do _this_.

It killed him to do so, but he pulled back, just enough to provide Phil with an out if he wanted it. And then he waited. Phil didn't seem to be breathing at all. His eyes were squeezed so tightly shut, there wasn't a chance of him seeing the desire Dan knew was pooling in his own eyes. Phil’s lips were still slightly parted, perfect and plump and pink, and Dan wanted nothing more than slide his own lips over them, feel how they moved in return. Instead, he waited. And waited. And waited. It felt like he was waiting for hours, although it was probably only thirty seconds at most.

And then Phil's lips pressed against his again, surer this time.

They kissed slowly, mouths mapping out new terrains they didn't want to miss a single detail of, and it was like nothing Dan had ever experienced. He'd never kissed anyone this slowly before, and as much as he already wanted _more_ , he didn't think he'd give this up for anything.

Everything about Phil was gentle. When he drew in closer, he brought his hands up to cradle Dan's face. When he began to open his mouth a bit more for Dan to explore, he stroked a thumb over Dan's cheekbone. Everything Phil did made Dan melt against him. Phil touched him as though he was simultaneously something to be adored and something to be ravished. He’d never been treated with this kind of care before.

Dan let his tongue slip inside Phil's open mouth, let himself taste the strangely sweet film that lined the inside walls as he learned his way around this new place. Kissing Phil was unlike anything Dan had ever known. The slight flutter he'd felt low in his stomach as they'd stood outside Phil's room earlier had now erupted into much more than that. It was like whatever was inside there had been trapped in a cage, and now that he was finally kissing Phil, it had been set free to do whatever it pleased. Which was apparently full-on somersaults.

Phil's hands worked their way lower as the two of them continued to kiss, first settling on Dan's jaw where they rested for a moment, and then sliding down to skim over Dan's neck. Dan gasped at the contact. His neck was probably the most sensitive place on his entire body, and here Phil was, actually touching it. This couldn't be real. He bit down, aiming for his own lip, as if that small jolt of pain could inform him if this was actually real or not, but he missed. Instead, he bit down on Phil's lip, and Phil let out a sharp hiss before pulling away. He was panting heavily, eyes still squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath.

Dan bit his own lip for real this time, letting himself settle back against Phil's pillows. He hadn't meant to bite Phil. At least not this time. And now he couldn't tell if he'd really hurt the other man - it didn't look like Dan had caused any physical damage - or if Phil was only taking a moment before they continued. God, he hoped they continued.

When Phil finally opened his eyes, though, Dan's heart swooped down into his stomach. Phil looked pained. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his mouth set into a hard line, and if Dan looked closely, he could see tiny teardrops forming in the corners of Phil's eyes. And Dan knew without a doubt that they wouldn't be continuing this. Not tonight, and maybe not ever.

" _Shit_ ," Phil said quietly. He hopped off the bed. "Shit, shit, shit." When he started pacing back and forth, Dan wanted nothing more than to run back to his own room and hide away. He hadn't meant to send Phil into a crisis. The first week of school - when he’d been constantly on edge and panicking over whether anyone liked him, whether it was a stupid idea for him to study English Literature, whether this was even the right school for him - that had been the worst week of his life. Phil didn’t deserve to feel like that. Sure, it wasn’t the exact same situation. But Dan had still shoved his way through a boundary that Phil had made very clear from the beginning, had still forced Phil to question a choice he’d been standing by for years. Phil was freaking out, and it was all Dan’s fault.

After what felt like hours, Phil stopped on the far end of the room, keeping his back facing Dan. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can't."

Dan's blood ran cold. He knew it was coming, he'd known since the second Phil pulled away, but that didn't make it hurt any less, didn't stop his eyes from stinging with the first prickling of tears. He needed to get out of here, he needed to get home. Silently, he pushed himself off of Phil's bed and made his way towards the door.

"I'm sorry," Dan whispered, trying not to let Phil hear the way his voice cracked on the last syllable. And then he slipped out the door, letting it fall shut behind him. He wasn't quite sure how he managed it, but he made it all the way back to his room before the first tear fell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading :) i'm on tumblr at laddyplester.
> 
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> 
> [like and reblog on tumblr](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/175374908734/buoy)

**Author's Note:**

> i can't guarantee a regular upload schedule because i have an irregular work schedule and, quite frankly, varying levels of motivation to write. i'm going to aim for once a week though, so come and yell at me on tumblr if you think i'm taking too long :)
> 
> you can find me there at laddyplester
> 
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> 
> [find this fic on tumblr](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/173658586964/buoy)


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